My first take on poetry. It is about the oppression of the human mind. Human emotion is represented by colors and the controller of their zombie-like minds is the painter.
Trapped inside
A big black box; consuming.
Engulfing the painter's lies as he
Swiftly strokes
the promise of a better unknown.
White, red and purple promises.
Pale, soundless bodies.
Flaming eyes
Pegged
on the painter's brush
Quietly anticipating a shade of yellow.
Fury and rage
of blue and grey
But still.
Restless minds
Frozen within
dependent on a palette
of three colors.
Slowly forming, a world of deteriorating souls.
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